


What Happens In Vegas

by SkullSummonerMina



Category: Weiß Kreuz, Weiß Side B (Manga)
Genre: Comedy, Dark Comedy, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, parts are dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-09-22 04:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9582767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkullSummonerMina/pseuds/SkullSummonerMina
Summary: What happens here, stays here.





	1. Chapter 1

Minus10 was a sad tourist trap that used the brilliant marketing strategy of ‘it’s really cold in here’ to sell cheap booze for astronomical prices. It was a disaster in every way conceivable. The tiny room was coated in ice, lit even after closing by pulsing pastel pinks and blues that turned it into a soulless mockery of nature’s beauty. Fake fur lined ikea-knockoff couches. Nothing in the bar was worth consuming. The ice sculptures were as if a toddler had been let loose with a hammer and an espresso.

Also, Chloe was really tired of having his head dunked into the fountain.

"Who sent you!" yelled Larry, aka the night’s bouncer who was almost certainly on steroids, but unfortunately not Human Interleukin or its variants. This night had been a complete waste of time, and Chloe was probably going to get a premature bald spot with how tight the thug was yanking him by the hair.

Even if Chloe had been inclined to answer, he was dunked back into the icy water before there was a chance. Really, this whole day had been terrible.

Larry yanked back up, and Chloe managed a breath. "Was it Johnson?!"

Wait who the hell was Joh—oh there was the water.

And out again. "I know he’s sleeping with my wife!"

The other bouncer frowned at his buddy. "Larry, he can’t answer if you—"

And back into the water.

And out—

A flash of movement just outside his vision was all the warning Chloe got before Larry crashed backwards, hand in Chloe’s hair going limp as Ken did one of the few things he was good at. This list sadly did not include:

a. arriving on time.

b. paying attention to if your co-worker was drowning because you just caused their head to be dropped back in ice cold water and they already had hypothermia.

Chloe managed to string together a disjointed mangle of curses in several languages before passing the fuck out.


	2. Chapter 2

Chloe awoke in a cocoon of hotel bedding and towels that smelled of stale soda. From his bundle he could see Ken sitting on the other bed, back to him, chattering on the phone in Japanese. So, it was likely Aya on the other line, which meant—

"Whatever you are telling him, stop now."

Ken looked back other his shoulder, then kept talking into the phone. In Japanese. Which Chloe had still not bothered to learn. Something something, Aya, something something, likely a swear word, something, wait that was his name, something, Minus10.

No, there was absolutely no way that Ken was the Minus10 incident was acceptable. Moving wasn’t pleasant while half-frozen, but Chloe would have to just make a grab at the phone regardless.

"He said he got his shit kicked in," Ken continued, in English, then hung up the phone before Chloe could reach him. 

Chloe narrowed his eyes and righted himself from the slightly unbecoming position his attempted lunge had landed him in. "Your pronunciation is terrible."

Ken waved off the jab, although he did look slightly annoyed, and when he continued his words were a bit slower. "Aya will be here soon. You need a shower." 

Wait. Chloe took another sniff. Yes, the disgusting smell of cheap soda passed off as an alcoholic beverage was coming from himself.

It took a moment, but then he understood. Drunks were common enough wandering Vegas hotels at 3 am. Half-drowned assassins less so.

"The indignity of having to be carried back to my hotel room like a drunken tourist," lamented Chloe, placing a mostly thawed hand over his face. 

"I didn’t carry you," said Ken. "I put you on a baggage cart."

Chloe peered through his fingers with growing horror. "You what."

If pressed, Chloe would later blame his following actions on either only recently being thawed, or accidental consumption of the cheap booze he had been doused in. His mind was a tad fuzzy. Maybe he had a concussion! All of these possibilities could be used as an excuse if later questioned.

But the point was that when Aya opened the door he found the two of them on the floor in a rather compromising position.


	3. Chapter 3

"This is not what it looks like!" Ken said with an arm trapped under Chloe's thigh.

Chloe's arm was not trapped under Ken's shirt. He decided to leave it anyway. "If only it were."

The elbow jabbing into Chloe's chest was completely unnecessary for Ken to get off the floor, but so was Chloe's not-as-subtle-as-it-could-have-been attempt to knee him back. 

All through this shameful mess Aya only looked down at them with disapproval. 'I'm not mad,' the look said, 'I am not even disappointed. I am used to this, and that is sad.'

Chloe completely recovered from this by brushing the dust of the carpet off his pants. There, it was gone. Over. Done with. Nothing embarrassing had happened. Continue on.

Aya took a nice long breath before putting a stack of papers on the hotel table. "Minus10 was a dead end?"

Before Chloe was able to get out his first syllable Ken interrupted with a barrage of Japanese. 

Aya responded in kind.

Chloe looked from one co-worker to the other, then indignantly interrupted whatever Ken was in the middle of saying, "Did Mihirogi not subject us to a lecture on how as a team we must communicate in a language we all supposedly understand? By which I mean English."

(Said lecture had been sparked by Chloe's use of German with Free while they were chasing a cat around the village at 3am, but who cared about details?)

"Even if," he added, "We are in America, and as such it is horrible bastardized American English. Also, that 'supposedly' was for you, Ken."

This did nothing to stop Ken from ranting in Japanese to Aya, but it made Chloe feel better. Maybe it was because the conversation was now certainly about him, but not about him drowning. Small victories.

"Ken," Aya finally said.

Ken, obviously still put out by all this, turned on Chloe. "Why can't you learn Japanese if learning is so easy?"

Chloe opened his mouth while scrambling to come up with a good deflection to that point (he had none) but was thankfully saved by the intervention of their esteemed leader.

"Both of you," said Aya, he looked as if he wanted an entire cabinet's worth of Tylenol. "Minus10 was a dead end, we must move on to the next lead."

Good, yes. Moving on. "Which would be?" Chloe asked.

"Read the files," replied Aya. 

The files were in punching distance to Ken, so Chloe declined. "Could you summarize?"

Aya sighed. "Mihirogi suspects some connection to the boxing match this Saturday, held at the Camelot Resort. Although the lead at Minus 10 came to nothing, there is still the rest of the complex. The two of you will investigate further this evening, while they prepare for the match. Meanwhile, Mihirogi will be posing as a possible sponsor for one of the combatants. I will be with her under the cover of being her aide."

Ah, once it had always been Chloe's job to play the arm candy. Now half the time it seemed Aya had the honor. The apparent replacement kicked at his pride. He would have to say nicer things about her cooking abilities next time he was forced to sample them. 

Maybe that would get him off this proverbial couch. 

Then again the couch also had Ken sleeping on it, and there was an opportunity for fun of the best sort, the type tempered with danger. There was a fine line between teasing enough for entertaining reactions, and causing a man of tenuous sanity to murder you. Like a fisherman reeling in the catch, too much tension would result in a snap, too little and no reward. 

Aya continued on. "Meanwhile, Yuki will keep the security cameras off us as much he can. Be discreet."

What, it hadn't been as if Chloe had purposely been mistaken for, well, whatever that bouncer had thought he was.

"Michel and Free will do their best to aid him." Aya shifted from one foot to the other, a slight frown forming. "Mostly by supplying pretzel bites and pizza, apparently."

"Can't believe he can eat that," Ken mumbled, "Potato pizza?!"

"So," Chloe summarized the summary. "Wander Camelot aimlessly?"

"You'll have a radio. It is most likely Mihirogi will acquire the information we need, then you and Ken will act on it."

Ken asked something, and unlike his pizza complaints, it was in Japanese.

Before Chloe could complain, Aya answered in English. "There are no targets yet. This mission is still in the investigation stages."

"So what are we supposed to do?!" Ah, it seemed Ken was far less pleased with the duty of lazy leg-work.

"Either of you could try reading the files," Aya responded. 

Ken attempted further badgering but Aya managed to de-tangle himself with practiced ease and escape to the door.

Chloe gave his sleeve another sniff. 

Ken picked at the edge of the papers.

Reeling a fish. The line between teasing and giving legitimate motive for being murdered in his sleep.

Lines were meant to be pushed. 

Chloe gave it a full minute after Aya had closed the door, just to make sure he wasn't heard. "So, are you two…?" At Ken's seeming incomprehension Chloe gave a look.

It was easy to see the exact moment Ken realized what Chloe meant as the man started sputtering.

Which of course was exactly what Chloe needed right now. So of course he pressed on. "I'm not judging you. Although by your response I seem to be mistaken. Now I would be perfectly willing to help in exchange for oh, some sharing down the road."

He managed to duck the glass. The water in the glass not so much.

Well, Chloe needed a shower anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

Constructed as recently as the late1990s, yet looking as dated as a wood paneled basement, Camelot was a casino slash hotel slash convention center slash blemish on the face of the face of the desert styled in the manner of a fantasy castle. Knights. Towers. Banner. No particular attachment to historical accuracy. Fake stone walls hovered over eye-blinding carpet, and in the void left between them the loud glow of slot machines blared.

  
It was loud. It was ugly. They were lost.

Chloe stared down at the scattered bastardization of heraldry on purple fabric that made up the floor. Was that the Welsh dragon? Or Clifford the Red dog?

He took a sip from the cardboard cup that held a substance that had been sold to him as coffee. He grimaced. "This tastes like soap."

"Throw it out if it's so bad." Ken's tone was probably influenced by the fact Chloe had been on this subject for the better part of an hour.

"No, I need the caffeine to survive this place." Defiantly, Chloe forced another sip. It wasn't even high quality soap. This was the pink gloop from a cheap public toilet, always crusted over with a layer of congealed soap that had been touched by countless other people before you. Yet now he was trapped, to not continue would be to admit defeat. What a terrible fate of his own making. He grimaced. He complained some more.

At the next trash bin Ken grabbed the cup from Chloe's hand and dumped it.

Ah, saved from himself and given a new reason to complain. Of course he couldn't thank Ken—quite the opposite—but Chloe made a note to ask the hotel concierge if there were any decent Japanese restaurants in the area.

In the meantime there was images to preserve. Chloe readied an outraged tone, "How dare—"

"That’s him!" a drunken British voice shouted across the tackily patterned floor, "That’s the bastard that stole my skateboard!"

Wait, what?

Ken dragged Chloe into hiding behind a cluster of slot machines. Chloe allowed this even though nothing that had just happened made any sense. Well, at least that ended the coffee issue.

He found himself pressed against a flashing screen of whirling clip art of naked ladies and numbers that were probably supposed to mean something. There were certain games of chance Chloe had made a point of learning, as they were what one was supposed to know. Showgirls: The Encore SLOTS was not one of them.

He gave the worn and greasy buttons a glare. No, you were not getting his money.

And speaking of—

"Where’d he go?" cried Ken’s mysterious nemesis. "He owes me fourty pounds!"

A horrible thought occurred to Chloe. "Please tell me this is unrelated to last night’s little adventure."

"What?" Ken shot him a look. "No. Shit--" There was more dragging, this time down stairs. "Damnit, I thought Aya handled this!"

This became more confusing by the second but if it had nothing to do with Chloe, then he was going to also find it amusing. Ken and Aya, partners in skateboard thievery? "Handled what?"

"Doesn’t matter!" Ken faltered as they entered a cluttered basement filled in every corner with aged carnival games coated in a crusting veneer of Camelot. They stopped in front of a panel of catapults with stuffed witches ready to be launched. "What the Hell?"

The casino's big show was close to starting, and it was easy enough to blend into the crowd that gathered. They edged towards an emergency exit. Luckily it was not alarmed, although there had to be a security guard watching them somewhere. They would have to leave quickly. One run down a service hallway and—

Oh, there was the guard, and he did not look pleased with them.

Chloe acted fast. He used Ken’s grip on his wrist against the man, swinging him into the wall and quickly enacted the classic cover plan of ‘lost drunk couple making out.’

"What the fu—" Ken’s swearing was cut off by Chloe’s completely necessary getting into character and sticking his tongue down the man’s throat.

Ken didn’t bite his tongue off. Chloe was vaguely disappointed, but took the opening to get a hand under the man’s shirt. It was the little touches that sold an act, after all.

"Okay kids," came the guard’s voice, trained into an even boredness by having seen this sort of thing far too many times. "This ain’t the place for it. Let’s get you two outside into the nice fresh air."

"Mrrmf," Ken attempted, eyes suddenly wide, and attempted to shove an indignant Chloe to the side.

Behind him the security guard dropped to the floor, spraying a gush of blood from his severed neck.

What the—

That was when he was tranq’d into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

Waking up in hotel rooms after blacking out was becoming far too common on this trip. Yet this time Chloe knew the situation was far worse than a simple mix-up at an over-priced bar. This time, instead of waking on adequately fluffy pillows and a comforter smelling of harsh cleaning product, he found his face plastered against the sticky redness of Ken's jeans.

Regardless of whose blood that was, it was a bad sign.

"Ah, finally Sleeping Beauty awakens."

Crown's voice. No, this day was unsalvageable. "Setting you on fire wasn't enough to rid the world of you, Crown?"

The bastard's laugh was just as grating as it always was. "Not my fault KR's new boys can't finish a job properly."

Chloe felt rumbling through the ruined fabric under his face and oh right, he was still face-down on Ken's lap.

"He won't shut up." Nice to see Ken enjoyed Crown's special brand of company as much as Chloe did. "And he broke our phones."

Chloe attempted to remove himself from Ken's lap. Crown shoved him back down. Great. Just wonderful. Well, to look on the bright side, a quick assessment told he was mostly un-injured. Other than the zip-ties cutting off circulation to his hands, and of course, his ever more battered pride. 

"So," There was always the useful tactic of stalling for time. "Am I to assume Side A is behind the Human Interleukin circulating Vegas? Are you planning on having Nevada secede from the United States now that your Wales plot fell through? I hope you realize the American's don't know what football really i—"

That got him yanked upwards, so at least he was no longer face-planted into Ken's crotch. Instead he was now rather close to the man's battered face. "You look terrible."

"You too," replied Ken.

"He put up a bit of a struggle before you awoke," confided Crown. "Even a broken femur won't quiet him. He's even more annoying than you are, Chloe! Maybe I should even him up?"

Whatever Ken started to say in Japanese—Chloe suspected it consisted of mostly swearing—was cut off by Clown making good on his suggestion. Although as he slammed down on Ken's tibia, it wasn't really even. Crown was as ever, all talk and sloppy in actual action.

Ken's swearing came back in full force after recovery. 

Yes, this day had gone straight down the drain.

"Now," Crown asked, pulling Chloe back to address the still spitting with fury Ken. "Are you going to behave?" 

"Go fuck yourself."

Wonderful annunciation for a man with two major bones broken. It seemed with proper motivation Ken was able to manage the English language after all. Then again, from the lessons Chloe had walked in on, Yuki and Aya's language lessons had been at least sixty percent cussing—

Chloe’s train of thought was cut by Crown slicing through Chloe’s belt with just enough force to nick the skin.  
"Interesting you should say that," replied Crown, face now smushed against the side of Chloe’s head and trailing a knife along an area knives had no business going near. 

It was no leap to see where this was leading. "If your intention is to debauch me in front of my co-worker let me assure I doubt anything you can do would be able to lower his opinion of me further."

Crown continued over whatever Ken was cursing—for Chloe was pretty certain it was cursing—with a rather worrying tone, "Oh, it won’t be me with will be doing the ‘debauching,’ kid."


	6. Chapter 6

"You need to fix your roots."  
Edward--no Chloe now, if he was going to make the change he would have to do so even in his own mind --turned from the mirror right into Crown's chest. Someday his growth spurt would finally hit, but for now here he was staring into Crown's chest as the man grabbed a chunk of Chloe's hair the same way those jerks at school had. But Chloe didn't move away; Crown was one of K.R's men, and K.R. was different, so surely those that served him—

"Too afraid of burning your scalp? If you don't get right in there, it’s a waste of a bottle." The free hand went to Chloe's chin, finger smudging a line down the side of Chloe's face. "And what a mess this is. Trying to cover freckles or fingerpaint?"

"I'm not--!"

"Really," Crown continued, hand dropping between them. "This is what K.R. wants the future to be? Kids who can't even apply basic foundation? It's frankly insulting."

The ability to form an appropriate retort in any possible situation was one that took either God given inherent talent or, in Chloe's case, years of deliberate practice. As it were, he was not yet a master of comebacks, and when Crown's wandering hands starting crossing lines even the worst of the boys at school hadn't dared, he managed a rather indignant squeaking noise, but otherwise, nothing. And when Crown whispered in that smug manner which would soon become infuriatingly familiar that when it came to matters of disguise, he could be a good compatriot and help show Chloe the basics, Chloe found himself nodding, and with a hand down his pants.

***

The more things changed the more they stayed the same, or some-such nonsense. Once again Crown had his hand where it certainly did not belong, nattering away childish insults. The major difference, beside the better part of a decade, and the distressing part, was that now there was an audience.

"The fuck do you mean by that?!" Ken may not have known what the word 'debaching' actually meant, but Crown was giving enough of a demonstration he surely had the basic idea down. As to the rest of Crown's sentence—

Chloe blamed this important factor for his inability to reply with a snappy remark putting both men back in their places. Also, he was a bit distracted by the knife pressed against his tender bits. That was also enough to keep Chloe from trying to escape when Crown yanked his head back with that unnatural strength. He could bide his time. Surely there would be an opening soon that would not include the risk of being neutered.

"Hands up where I can see them." Crown's grip was probably going to give Chloe premature baldness. Really, this entire weekend was taking years off his hairline. "Not that you have anything you can use on me. I made sure of that one while you were out."

"What about my devastating charm?" Chloe raised his zip-tied hands in front of him with a sigh. Crown may not have been able to see the unimpressed look Chloe made, but at least Ken could appreciate it. Well, maybe not, the man looked far too angry to appreciate much of anything right now.

"What the fuck do you mean by that!" Ken repeated, a bit more pause between each word, but now even less an actual question. 

Crowns fingers let go of hair only to stick themselves into Chloe's mouth, forcing it open. Disgusting, Chloe had vague ideas of where they had been. "Chloe-boy's sad attempt at wit or this?"

And that was when Crown shoved Chloe's face against Ken's with the same grace as a child smashing two Barbie dolls together.


	7. Chapter 7

Their faces smashed together in the middle of Ken's cursing. In surprise, the man shut his mouth, with the result that he bit clean through Chloe's lip.

Ow. 

Banged noses. Bleeding lips. Bruised teeth. Lack of breath mints. Poetry this was not. 

Now, Chloe had to admit, although only to himself, that many times he had pictured shoving Ken against a wall and shutting him up mouth to mouth style. The incident in the hallway had certainly seemed like a good start on those fantasies, and normally the additional detail of Ken being tied up would be welcome, however, circumstances as they were, Chloe just could not manage to appreciate it.

"Mmmfrf!"

For one, Ken really did need that breath mint.

"What, not enjoying this team-building exercise?"

Second, Crown could easily kill them, although the man seemed rather distracted by inane taunting.

"I'm sure this is still less stupid than anything old K.R. has made you do. Have you had the 'target turns out to be some cat' one yet? Ridiculous!" 

While Chloe could, he thought, manage to slide his face sideways enough to tell Crown shut his heretical mouth, there were other things to worry about, and he refused to give Crown the satisfaction of the effort required. 

Better to spend his thoughts on seeing if Crown had missed any of Chloe's hidden weapons. He hadn't.

Damnit.

And then Ken passed out. Really, not surprising considering the multiple broken bones, bleeding, and general jostling of someone with probable internal bleeding.

Still, Chloe felt oddly disappointed.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Crown bodily hefted Chloe off his unconscious co-worker, then grabbed Ken's face to give it a good shake and a few bangs against the wall, because of course what Ken needed was more head trauma.

Eventually calming himself down with the violence inherent in making sure a passed out man wasn't faking, Crown pushed Chloe back down, face against Ken’s vest. "Ah, poor kid, just couldn’t last long enough." 

Chloe's "You didn't think this through, did you?" earned him a smack hard enough to rattle teeth. Damnit, those were expensive.

Crown grabbed Chloe's face with one of those stupidly strong hands, yanking his head dangerously back. "I suppose I will be forced to tap in." 

It happened quickly. A flash of movement that Chloe barely dodged. Crown didn’t.

Crown’s skull crunched as it hit the floor, and flopped to the side at an angle necks generally did not manage.

Oh, well then.

Sliding off to the side, Chloe tugged his coat closed in a manner he hoped looked casual. "I thought your leg was broken."

"It is," said Ken. 

Chloe picked up the nearest sharp object and dealt with the zip-ties, not bothering to reply to that insanity. Sep one, get free. Step two, confirm hands still functioned and shake out the numbness.

"I think he’s dead," Ken said, gesturing with his head when Chloe bothered to look his way.

The body did not move, not even the faintest hint of breathing. Clothes splayed and stained with makeup, blood, and sweat, Crown managed to be more disgusting in death then he had been in life. Quite a feat.

Chloe plunged his knife hard enough into Crown’s closed eye that it bent. "Best to be sure."

Ken made a noise that seemed to say ‘yeah that’s true, good idea,’ but maybe meant ‘I am in horrible pain because I kicked a man to death with a broken leg, now untie me, you fuck.’ 

Well, that was simple enough to accomplish.

"Don’t move," Chloe fished a cellphone out of Crown's pocket after he was done. "Since there’s no baggage cart about, and any attempt to carry you would wreck your legs worse than you’ve already managed—" Chloe dialed Mihirogi’s number. "—I am going ahead and calling backup."

Before Ken could say anything to that Mihirogi picked up, and Chloe stood. Just to show he could.

Chloe gave a very brief and edited version of events, trying to emphasize that while there had been a few hiccups he, with some help from Ken, had been able to eliminate Crown. 

She sounded dubious. While normally her concern was welcome, and while it was currently warranted, he did not want to deal with it right now. There were things their mission planner needed to know and things she did not. 

Now, time to destroy evidence.

He heard Ken make noise as Chloe headed towards the attached bathroom. "Stop trying to move."

The noises stopped. Yes, of course Ken would try to get up on broken legs. He had just kicked a man to death with a broken leg. He had no sense of self preservation. The convalescence was going to be a trying experience for all, Chloe could already tell.

Maybe they could get him one of those dog cone collars.

Now, Chloe didn’t have much time. Trying to not think too hard, he dealt with cleaning himself up. The precariously tilted bathroom mirror gave Chloe a lovely view of a dented radiator that had probably been there since the atomic tests. Crud grew out of the crack between wall and yellowed tiles, there was some sort of brown stain leaking from the grill, and really the bathroom somehow managed to be more disgusting than the rest of the hotel room. 

He discarded a few layers of the toilet paper roll in an attempt to not catch anything from it. He used about half the shrunken sliver of soap and resolved once again yes, shower as soon as out of this horrid place. A glance in the mirror, a bit of coat adjustment. Fine, he looked fine. Not up to par but passable.

With no confidence that the towels had been washed in the last decade he took the paper roll with him instead.

Ken had managed the good sense to stay on the floor. When the man looked up, obviously about to say something Chloe did not want to hear just then, Chloe tossed him the paper roll. "I am going to deal with the rest of the room." 

"What are you—" 

Chloe ignored him. Cleaned. Ignored more things Ken said. Really that part wasn't so hard no matter how high the volume went up over time. Finally the noise ceased and Chloe gave hope that Ken had passed out again. No such luck, he was now glaring.

Goddamn it all, he was going to have to address this before the cavalry arrived. "Nothing at all happened today, except we were rather embarrassingly caught before killing Crown. However, Crown is dead, so the night is overall a success. Is that clear?" 

He was certain the reply to that involved several Japanese swear words, but still, when Mihirogi did arrive, Aya and Free in tow, whatever Ken said to Aya didn't seem to cause any alarm. Then again, Chloe never had any clue what was going on in that one's mind. Chloe went by Mihirogi's lack of reaction instead to confirm Ken was keeping his mouth shut where it mattered.

The fun of discreetly transporting a man with two broken legs out of a motel took over anything else, and Chloe was perfectly fine with that.


	8. Chapter 8

Chloe needed a shower.

His own hotel room having been turned into a mob hospital, Chloe went down the list. Aya and Yuki's room was occupied past capacity, and Chloe did not want the company. Michel and Free's was, see previous entry, un-occupied, but would require venturing into the occupied room for the key.

Fuck it. 

He asked Mihirogi nicely.

After K.R., Mihirogi knew the most about Chloe, especially the flaws. While he had given the rest of the team a sanitized version of his personal history, Nana had both access to all of K.R.'s papers work, and was a good listener when the topic was not how she could improve her cooking skills. Combined with her considerable intelligence, she tended to more easily tell when he was bullshitting. He tried very hard to make sure now did not become one of those times. 

Maybe at a later date, but certainly not now. 

She looked over her glasses as she handed him the key to her room. "I could change room arrangements, if necessary. It is not as if Michel and Free are even using theirs."

Chloe took the key with a shrug meant to be elegant, dramatic, and also casual. "No need for such hassle. Ken will be knocked out by painkillers by the time I wash up."

Whatever she suspected, she let it go. "We're leaving tomorrow. Camelot was a red herring. Side A was behind the whole mess, but it seems the other members have scattered now their plot has resulted in Crown's death." 

At least that meant only one more night in this horrid place.

Alas, after the second most through shower of his life, he still had to back to his hotel room in the end. Chloe's only hope was that whatever the hastily acquired 'doctor' had shot Ken up with would have him asleep until everyone was back on the flight to England.

Of course he could not be so lucky. Ken was high as a kite but he wasn't asleep.

"You!" Ken announced as soon as Chloe opened the door, bandaged finger pointing accusingly in the right general direction, the actions far too sloppy for a Ken that wasn't pumped full of whatever horse tranquilizers Vegas mob doctors had in their suitcases, but holding steady with sheer willpower and stubbornness which was much more comfortingly Ken-like.

At least, if the circumstances were different. As it were now, as shameful as it was, Chloe's first instinct was to flee. Turn around, shut the door. Neatly lock it. Pick the door to Michel and Free's room and—

He began backing away slowly. "Forgotten my name? I'm deeply insulted, Ken."

Alas, his smooth escape turned into awkwardly bumping into Aya.

That 'I'm not mad, just disappointed, actually I might be a little mad' condensation really was not what Chloe wanted right at that moment. But escape was cut off, he was trapped in a hotel room by his two Japanese co-workers and normally--normally that would be an interesting situation worth perusing, but now this was decidedly not the sandwich Chloe was looking for. 

"Mihirogi said you would be here," Aya held out a baggie of hopefully legal drugs, "Make sure Ken takes these and stays in bed. He's under orders to stay off his feet for a month so at least try to keep him there until the flight. I have to clean up tonight's mess."

Ken indignantly shouted something that contained a word suspiciously like washroom.

"Make Chloe help you. No walking."

Any little desire to remain in his hotel room that night died.

"Surely—"

Aya did not even let him begin his excuse. "Stay here. Go to bed. Both of you."

Ugh, it was unfair how that glare pierced Chloe's defenses. As if Aya knew everything. Especially the bad things, and was deeply judging him for them. 

"Of course. It is after all my room, too, as sad as that fact is." Chloe gave a wave as Aya left, still clearly suspicious, but maybe just annoyed at having to do clean up, that was never a fun job. Chloe tried to take solace in the fact that at least he wasn't having to go back to that damnable motel and make sure no janitors had seen too much. 

Coat off. Shoes off. He was going to ignore proper procedure tonight, reach the bed as soon as possible, hide under the covers like the child he most certainly was not, and pray all of this was over when the sun came up.

He'd almost reached bed when Ken interrupted with something completely unreasonable. 

"Are you OK?"

Chloe froze. "What?"

Ken, who was halfway up into a sit because who really needed rest when they had two broken legs, seemed both pissed off and embarrassed by this response, which, yes, perhaps had come out a bit more forceful than Chloe would have intended but damnit, it had been a very long day. "Before, getting caught, you grabbed me in the hall so it was sort of your fault, but I fucked up and was useless, and the weird stuff that bastard had us, I uh…"

Oh dear God, was Ken attempting to apologize for something?

"Did anything…" Ken fished around for a moment, frustration with the need to pause clear, "weird happen when I was out?"

"Nothing at all." The key to a lie’s success was delivery. Believably and important details, those were useful, but all of that could be discarded with proper presentation. With enough confidence objections were swept out of the way before they could even form. Act sure of yourself and no one would question.

No one except someone completely oblivious to the finer aspects of Chloe's performance. "Bullshit!"

There was hotel pen on the table by Chloe's bed. Flimsy, a cheap plastic clickable. He grabbed it, because it was always easier to have an argument when there was something throwable in your hand. 

"I don't know the word, but it's not, it's" he ground out something Chloe was glad he didn't understand even if he knew what Ken probably meant. Because it wasn't true, and even if it were, Chloe was planning on forgetting any of this had happened anyways. Which was not going to work if Ken insisted upon making an issue out of it.

Chloe pocketed the pen, stood a bit straighter. "Well, it is true, your kissing technique is dreadfully inadequate, although I will be lenient in my grading due to circumstances."

"I don't mean that part, I meant after!"

"You drooled and it was disgusting."

"That's not what I mean!"

No more bright quips came to Chloe. Good Lord, he was too tired to properly out talk Ken. That was unacceptable. This entire mission was unacceptable. Vegas was unacceptable. Chloe was unacceptable. He could not even properly articulate himself in his own mind anymore. That was it. He gave up. "Ken, do you really want to have a heart to heart about Crown forcing us to snog while he stuck his hand down my pants?"

"No!" Ken really was terrible at this 'bed rest' concept, wasn't he? The man was half-way upright and looked far too likely to try to get vertical. 

"Good. I have a much better plan. I'm going down to the casino floor. I am going to play Showgirls: The Encore SLOTS until it is time for us to leave for the airport." Chloe's hand was on the knob just as Ken lurched dangerously forward, one very broken leg going suspiciously close to the floor. "What are you doing?"

"Stopping you from doing anything stupid."

"Are you honestly attempting to walk on two broken legs not even an hour after that mafia doctor insisted you have bed rest for a month?" Dear God, Ken really was insane.

"Yup." The madman had already managed to swivel himself half off the bed. "I may have been a useless fuck before, but I can stop you from doing stupid shit now."

Chloe folded his arms. "As a cripple? How, exactly?"

"I have two broken legs," Ken agreed, "I can still kick your ass."

Chloe briefly wondered if proving Ken’s threat wrong would be worth Mihirogi’s later wrath. No. Ugh. He sighed, and with a gesture he knew looked suitably dramatic, took a step away from the door. "Fine. I refuse to be held responsible for you ruining that mob doctor’s work." 

This was not a surrender, Chloe insisted to himself as he made quick side trip to the bathroom before returning with a filled cup. "You win this battle. I will keep you company in your convalescence."

"The fuck does that mean?" But Ken stopped trying to get out of the bed, and when Chloe handed him the glass he used it to down the pills Aya had delivered. The fool.

Listerine sputtered half way across the room.

"What the fu--!!"

Ken's swearing was cut off by Chloe's mouth. The third time, Chloe decided then and there, was going to be the charm. Surely it would be impossible to be worse than the previous incidents. Chloe gave the proverbial olive branch by being courteous, and allowing Ken more time to adjust to this sudden circumstances. He only opened his mouth enough to taste the hotel sample mouth wash. Only a little biting.

It was this act, that jump started Ken out of shock and—to Chloe's pleasant surprise---into participation. It was still nothing close to poetry but really Chloe had never expected nor desired such, and it was certainly an encouraging beginning. 

Until Ken's hand shoved fingers between their mouth and hefted Chloe's face back in a manner comfortingly familiar. "I said not to do stupid shit!" The glare Chloe faced was perfect, right on that edge where anger was tempered with enough confusion and, oh dear—possibly interest—

Chloe smiled under Ken's palm. 

Ah, amazing how much better he felt after simply re-establishing himself as the one who frazzled others, not the other way around. "Don't call yourself stupid." Chloe slid out of Ken's grip, placed the TV remote in Ken's empty hand, then flopped--gracefully flopped--on top of Ken's chest.

"What are you doing now?" Ken's words were cut off by Chloe shoving his nose under the man's chin.

"Shut up, Ken," said Chloe, wiggling a bit to get more comfortable. Ken in turn made some interesting noises as Chloe picked up Ken's arm out from where it now hung above them, and with purpose, placed it over his waist. "I'm going to sleep, so don't move. Watch TV if you can find content to your limited tastes, and don't worry, that's a pen in my pocket."

The order resulted in a huff of air from Ken, but no attempt at disobeying. Ah, if the man hadn't been shot full of painkillers Chloe would have investigated further, but they had a tendency to skew results.

"OK." Ken true to Chloe's demand, did not move but for clicking the volume of the TV a tad lower. "Go to sleep."

Channels clicked.

Click click.

Click.

"You know, I don't not like you," Ken said out of nowhere, as this was apparently the night for such things. "But you're an asshole. Because you go too far."

'Don't not like'? How affectionate. He'd take it. "Thank you, that's sweet." Absently Chloe patted the arm on top of him, need for sleep catching up to him. This arrangement was surprisingly cozy, and he decided to be true to his word and sleep. Perhaps the day was not to be a total loss. "You know what? As you lack of knowledge seems to so upset you, I'll teach you German."

"I don't want to know German!"

"What about just the swears?"

An annoyed noise, but Chloe liked to think it was a fond annoyance. The arm around him gripped comfortably tighter, anyways. "Shut up and sleep."

"Ah, I know," he said mostly into Ken's side. "Was in Vegas passiert, bleibt in Vegas."

And to Chloe's great surprise, he was not thrown out of the bed.


End file.
